FRIDAY #FICTION with RONOVAN WRITES Prompt Challenge #27-Use 3 of 5
I’m not saying that the life of a statistician is particularly interesting.
Truth is there aren’t 2.3 children per person in the US, unless every family has a child without arms and legs.
What a delicious idea.
The statistic stating that there are 87.4 people per square mile of the United States is ridiculous. No one is going to live in the middle of a volcano, a lake, a tar pit or a former nuclear test site, and people keep pouring over the borders at such a rate it’s impossible to quantify as a yearly number.
Three out of every five people in the year 2014 in the United States were white. For those of you who need the percentages, that’s 60%.
But enough about irrelevant numbers.
I have 3 jobs. I live inside a cave on the side of an arid mountain where the climate is much like my home. It’s part of my commission as a field worker for my planet, an important effort that serves a much larger purpose.
Everyone outside of Earth knows I look like this:
For my 2nd job, I sub-contract with the US government to compile useless statistics. In an effort to cut costs, the government interviewed me from my computer. They think I look like this:
I do know how to have fun. I like to land my small craft in front of campers and laugh as I hear them run into the woods screaming.
It used to get lonely here, but I have a 1-eyed cat who serves as my companion. My family asked me why I chose such an ugly pet, but his story is one that makes everyone on my planet laugh.
When I first landed on Earth, I scoured lonely places in search of succulent meat. Bears were my favorite, but the same old thing gets tiring after a while.
Soon, I was curious about the talking mammals that inhabited large cities.
One of the mammals, a human the size of a bear, was kicking a tiny kitten in an alley. I transported both into storage, the thoughts of this human so vile I considered eradicating the entire human race.
Kitty was afraid, at first. He’d started life as a happy mammal, playing with his brothers and sisters in a large, comfortable home. Then, one day, he was in a box with his brothers and sisters being given away to strangers in front of a place where people bought something called groceries. I happened upon him during the kick that destroyed his right eye. But we became fast friends after I fed him pieces of his attacker.
I receive no pay for my 3rd job, one that my companion and I look forward to every weekend. We scour the cities for cats in distress, eat most of the perps and drop off the victims in places where humans are praying for a feline to love.
My parents used to call me ‘the crazy cat alien’, but once I told them that 3 out of every 5 people on this continent are soft and succulent, they’ve reconsidered their disparaging comment. They’ve decided to visit Earth with a few of their friends.
By the end of the decade, 3 out of 5 humans in North America will be tough and stringy. But with so many millions of humans in the world, my primary task for my 1st job soon became finding other uses for them.
Kitty says the humans who serve their kind should be spared. My research shows that to be 20% of the world population.
I told him that’s a statistic I can live with.